The gendarmes, upon discovering that several units of the national defense force had started to make unusual movements, ran over furiously to question every daring regiment commander. However, when they saw the Black Orc heads tumbling out of the portal with Malin, their fierceness immediately took a new direction—those damned Black Orcs!
The gendarmerie split into two groups, one headed to the churches to report to their superiors through the portals and messengers. Malin stopped them, making sure each person carried a few Black Orc heads—as grim as it was, nothing worked better as evidence and a show of authority in the meticulous military than such bloody proofs.
For this, the major of the gendarmerie saluted Malin to show gratitude—as a direct subordinate to His Majesty the King, this was a high form of homage. Normally, they were only accountable to their own chain of command and the King.
"Heinrich Stein, on behalf of all the people in the southern province, I thank you. As for His Majesty, I don’t presume to speak on his behalf—after all, you are family." The young blond man smiled and stretched out his hand. Malin extended his as well—perfectly controlling his strength—and they shook hands amicably. Malin then voiced his doubts, "Commander Ataf told me, before you arrived, that every unit of the national defense forces in the areas bordering the Dark Zone had reported unusual incidents. I’d like to confirm—do you have any knowledge about this?"
In Malin’s view, with such frequent occurrences, it was impossible for the gendarmerie to be completely uninformed. They must have heard something, even if it was just idle chatter over drinks between commanders.
"We are aware and have been consistently reporting to our superiors. As for the specifics of these reports, I’m sorry, Mr. Malin, you do not have the clearance to know the internal affairs of the military," the major said firmly but respectfully. Malin took no offense—first of all, he was an Assistant Priest for the Church, not military personnel; secondly, having married Faye, he shouldn’t be handling military matters.
Besides, Malin had no intention of probing further. The military of Sydney was still controlled by the Mowish family. The forces at Malin’s command were his own. However, if someone in the military was holding back information, the one to apologize would be numerous.
At the very least, Malin wouldn’t mind representing the people and shooting such a person himself.
Yet Heinrich called over a communicator, using an urgent report with a messenger from the spirit realm to contact His Majesty Mowish directly.
"Can you get through to His Majesty?" Malin curiously asked in passing.
"Have you ever contacted him?" Heinrich, equally curious, looked at Malin, then after a few seconds, slapped his own forehead, "I forgot, didn’t Princess Faye fail to reach His Majesty?"
"Yes, we tried to contact His Majesty before coming here, but we couldn’t reach him," Malin said.
Then they saw the spirit realm messenger return.
"It seems our King has woken up." Heinrich smiled, lighting a cigarette for himself, "Communicator, what did our King say?"
"The King said... to let Mr. Malin take charge of this campaign against the Black Orcs, is his reply," the communicator finished and looked at his superior, "Major, what shall we do now?"
Malin was taken aback—wait a minute, what are you doing, old man? Couldn’t you have pulled one of your two sons back? If not, you still have a third son, don’t you? Do you have any idea how much money your son-in-law’s corporation can make in a minute?
Malin, internally voicing his frustrations, was not inclined to accept this task—it wasn’t that he was unable to command. Someone from his time coming to a world that had never even experienced World War I would naturally come up with ways to bully the Black Orcs, who act solely on instinct and size, especially in a world filled with various Spell Formations.
But he truly didn’t have the time to spare here—who knew how long this battle would last.
"His Majesty must be preoccupied with something, Mr. Malin, don’t you think?" The Major of the gendarmerie turned the question over to Malin at that moment.
This made Malin hesitate—but in the end, a sense of responsibility led him to nod, "I can take up the responsibility, but please also explain and clarify with all units..." Checking his pocket watch, Malin announced, "We will depart in ten minutes."
There were eleven regiment commanders in the area, six of whom chose to accept the order. Five strongly opposed Malin acting as the high commander, but at this point, Major Heinrich of the gendarmerie expended a great effort on Malin’s behalf, testifying for him and producing an order from the King.
Two out of the five acquiesced after confirming the order, and three insisted on contacting the King themselves, who then unequivocally reprimanded them through the spell formation.
After dismissing them, the King called Malin aside for a moment.
Major Heinrich was ready to leave but was also asked to stay, for according to the words of King Goethe, the gendarmerie was his personal guard.
Then Malin learned why His Majesty hadn’t been responding before, as he simply hadn’t had the time to check his messages—his third son, Joe, had been assassinated in the street. The assassin had entered The Capital with a northern merchant convoy and used a crossbow arrow. After being shot, Joe struggled and crawled under the engine Malin had gifted him, pulling down the bulletproof panel. The assassin’s attempt to finish the job failed, and they were killed on the spot.
Hence, upon hearing about the Black Orc incident and confirming Malin’s presence, he directly handed command over to Malin.
With that being the case, Malin had no choice but to grudgingly accept.